that lady would swim better if she would slow down, i wonder how long that gatorade bottle has ben there, 19,18,17,16, 4 25's easy, 1 fast, 1,2,3, breath, 17, 18, flip, "so much for my happy ending", stretch out, let your left hand extend, pick up your tempo but don't bounce, head down, am i done yet, i am going to make this swim, i wonder if my mouth will get eaten up by the salt water, hey there goes helen, i am the first one in the pool, i am th last one in the pool, i feel good today, 1:19 flipturn, 3 more hundreds, i wonder if anyone at practice wants to come swim half of this set with me, only 5600 left, i got this, no problems, i wonder if i can hold this pace, "t-t-tonight!". this is just 30 seconds of what my brain feels like each swim. i spend a lot of time by myself in the pool. mandy and shelly would swim with me from time to time, but other than that, no one on the masters team can hold the pace or distances. conversely, i cannot swim with the crawfish kids because i cant hold the pace. so i swim alone, a lot of the time i am the only one in the building. i grew up an only child so it does not bother me too much. you can't talk during it anyhow. swimming to me is not a social activity. a lot of time to think.
this past week i went to the Coast for a marathon trip. i drove into Biloxi, saw my parents then i was off to do a presentationbefore the Biloxi Rotary. it was very productive. i then jumped in my car and went to Bay St. Louis for the funeral for both of best friend from high schools parents. it was surreal. you don't expect both of someones parents to die and without getting into it, the circumstances surrounding this were bad. i then left and drove back to Biloxi to pick up my dad from a small surgical procedure he had on his back. he is fine (as fine as having a needle digging around your sciatic nerve can be, ughhh). i then drove him home to Gulfport and then back to Baton Rouge. it was during the wait in line for the funeral and in the days since that the idea of honesty has kept returning to my mind.
everyone is from somewhere. i had a slightly different upbringing in that i moved to Mississippi, the deep south, from Michigan, the upper midwest, when i was just about to turn 7. it was a bit of culture shock, i must say. yes ma'm, no ma'm, yessir, nosir, i was not familiar with any of this. but i was 7 so i adapted easily and moved on. i made pretty good friends and then after 6th grade, swithched schoold to attend St. Stanislaus College. it is an all boys school in Bay St. Louis and it was a big change. i basically had to make all new friends, and kind of start over. a lot of the kids at the school were either from the Bay and had grown up together, or were "sent" there for various reasons, ranging from getting an education to mostly discipline problems. it was a change, but really 12 year olds can adapt pretty easily too. my best friend from 7th-12th grade and then roomate for my first 1.5 years of college was Scott the guy mentioned above. he transferred to Ole Miss after his stint at LSU and we didn't keep nearly as in touch. my mom called and told me the horrible news about his family the friday it happend. i packed up tuesday and went to the Coast. i arrived at the chucrch and school i have only been to two or three times since 1989. i recall stopping by with a friend from LSU who also went there and we were passing through. i then was in Scott's wedding in May of 1995. i was now entering the same church that i graduated from high school and Scott's wedding. now i was there for a funeral. i got in line outside the church and caught up with a friend Jeff, that i hadn't seen in 5 or so years (oh year, i went to my 15th reunion). as i was speaking to him it struck me that i had not spoken to hardly any of the guys from my school. in fact none of them except Scott every year or two. this is probably quite normal. what struck me was the realiztion that i have been trying to distance myself from the Coast fro 17 years, for no real apparent reason. i mean i swore i would never go back there to live work etc. i had no interest, so little that i didn't bother keeping in touch with hardly anyone still there. this hit me as very sad and unneccesary. i mean the Coast may not be NYNY, but it is (was) really nice. Very laid back, really nice people. i still can't figure out why i never wanted ot go back there, small town mentality i guess. we all run from something. i can't quite figure out what it is yet, but hope to. my friend Scott and i spoke today (3/7) and he kinda said the same thing. it must just be what people do. it sometimes just takes you being really honest with yourself to 1. realize that you probably didn't give someone, somthing or in this case somewhere, a chance, and 2. that you can change this with a minimal effort.
one reason i have not written in awhile is because i completely changed the concept and name of my restaurant. it has also been an eye opening experience. i will expound in my next post.
24 days till the swim.
rocketboy